The Consulting Detective and His Time Away
by thatoneunevenchick
Summary: I wondered what it was like in his head, how he saw the world and what he thought of it. The world was a cruel place to someone who couldn't see into its heart and it must be hell for him. *note River is an OC so please don't hate on her*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I had this dream a while back and after I woke up I just kind of went with it and this is the end result, I hope you guys like it. **

**River's POV**

I was surprised to see him standing there, even still after all this time I knew he couldn't be dead, there was just no way. His hair was unkempt and it looked as if he hadn't showered in quite some time. I walked up to him, studying his profile. He seemed run down and ragged, his dark, curly hair was longer and messy and his steely grey eyes seemed to lack enthusiasm. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at my staring but I couldn't help myself he was everything I thought he would be.

"Can I help you?" he asked. I blinked, sticking my hand out for him to shake. He stared at it blankly before I put it down back at my side. "You're Sherlock Holmes aren't you?" I whispered. He nodded. "But you're "dead"" I said, putting air quotes around the word. Again he nodded. "You need somewhere to stay don't you?"

"I do"

"You can stay with me" he nodded and followed me as I turned and started walking.

"What might I call you?" he asked.

"River"

**Sherlock's POV**

I could smell her before she approached me, her perfume thick, as though she had bathed in it. It gagged me from where I sat but I tried to ignore it when she was standing next to me. She stared up at me opened mouthed, causing me to roll my eyes. Her eyes were a bright green, her hair an auburn colour, but it wasn't natural, it was dyed that way, her roots were starting to show. I sighed heavily.

"Can I help you?" she closed her mouth, blinking rapidly. She stuck her hand out for me to shake. I crinkled my nose at it, making her drop the appendage.

"You're Sherlock Holmes aren't you?" she whispered. I nodded. "But you're 'dead'" she said, putting the annoying air quotes around the last word, making me roll my eyes again. I nodded. "You need a place to stay, don't you?" I nodded again, was it that obvious?

"I do"

"You can stay with me" she said suddenly. I nodded, following her out. I frowned.

"What might I call you?" I asked. She smiled, turning back to look at me.

"River"

* * *

**River's POV **

I stopped the car outside of his old flat.

"Why are we here?" he asked, his brow crinkled in confusion.

"Watch, about now John will be leaving" as I said this John left, closing the door behind himself. I waited until he was far down the street and Mrs. Hudson had left as well before getting out of the car.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock hissed as I picked the lock and shoved the door open.

"Anything you need?" He sighed, looking about the room. He walked over to where his violin sat, picking it up.

"Just this I suppose" I could hear someone coming back to the flat and Sherlock seemed to have heard it too.

**John's POV**

I locked the door behind myself before heading down the street. I sighed, shoving my hands into my pockets to stop the wind from biting at them. I stopped suddenly realizing I had forgotten something. I groaned in frustration, turning around. I pulled my keys out of my pocket about to unlock the door but something made me stop. I opened the door suddenly but there was nothing there. I sighed; I could have sworn I heard Sherlock's voice.

**River's POV**

I slouched down in my seat so John wouldn't see me as he left the house. I sighed, lifting up the edge of my shirt. The cut wasn't that deep, could easily be fixed with a Band-Aid.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, looking down at where my side was bleeding.

"Yeah I'm fine I think I just got knicked climbing out the window" he nodded, turning to look out the window. "You need to tell him Sherlock" he shook his head.

"I can't"

* * *

I unlocked the door to my flat, pushing the door open and throwing my bag on the floor.

"There are some rules if you're going to be staying here with me" I said, turning to him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Rules?" he asked, frowning, I nodded.

"First you aren't allowed to leave the house, ever"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because we can't run the risk of someone seeing you" he nodded but he was still frowning. "Second there's only one bedroom so the rules on that are who ever goes to bed first gets to sleep in the bed, otherwise the other person can sleep on the pull out couch" he nodded, sitting down on the couch. "Anyway I'm going down to the shop to get some food; I'll be back in ten minutes".

* * *

I bumped the door open with my hip, walking into the flat and setting the groceries down in the kitchen.

"Twelve minutes" I jumped, turning.

"God Sherlock you scared me"

"You said it would take you ten minutes, it took you twelve"

"Sorry" I said shrugging, turning to start putting groceries away. "What difference does it make if I was two minutes late?" I could hear Sherlock sigh behind me.

"I was worried" I scoffed.

"You were worried about me?"

"Yes" he said simply. I shook my head, sticking a tub of butter in the fridge. I reached back into the brown paper bag and grabbed the jam, sticking that in the fridge as well. "Why did you buy all this?" he asked as I put bread on the counter. I shrugged.

"Because there wasn't much food and I usually don't eat at the house so that was why, but I thought since you were going to be home all day I thought at lest you should be able to eat" he frowned but I ignored him and continued putting things in their respective places until all the groceries were put away.

* * *

**Sherlock's POV**

She said goodnight heading to her room. I sighed, sitting down on the brown leather couch. I pulled her laptop over to myself, turning it on. There wasn't a password, making it easier for me. I pulled up the browser and searched her name.

* * *

**River's POV**

I yawned, stretching my arms over my head. It was my favourite part of morning when the sun had just come up over the horizon and was fuzzy and bright. I pushed off the bed and walked into the living room, slightly surprised to see Sherlock's face inches from my laptop screen.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, turning on the coffee maker.

"I didn't"

"Oh?" he shook his head. I shrugged, opening the fridge, pulling out the eggs.

"Who are you?" I frowned, my head still in the fridge. I pulled my head out, closing the door and walking over to Sherlock.

"What do you mean?"

"Who are you? Tell me about yourself" I sighed.

"My name is River you know that" he frowned. "Alright, I was a spy, an American spy I worked for a lot of different people"

"So why are you here?"

"I quit the spy life and came here. Now I do a lot of odd jobs"

"How did you know about me? How did you know about John?"

"I was there the day you jumped, I became friends with John, I know about you because of him" he stood up, his face inches from mine.

"Don't lie to me"

"I'm not here to hurt you" I said, pushing him back onto the couch and falling into his lap. "I'm not here to hurt John either, I'm just here"

"Why are you letting me stay with you?" I sighed.

"Because you needed somewhere to stay, I told you I'm not here to hurt you or John, I'm not here to spy on you" he frowned, uncertain if I was telling the truth or not. "I'm not lying, you of all people should be able to know that" he sighed.

"Weren't you about to make something?" he asked. I nodded, sliding off his lap and heading back into the kitchen, turning the coffee pot on as I walked past.

* * *

It was late, the streets dark. I hated heading home at this time, it made me nervous. The car I had rented had to be returned yesterday so indecently I was without a car and cabs didn't come this way. I sighed, pulling my hat further over my ears and shoving my hands further into my pockets, damn me forgetting my gloves. I worried about Sherlock at the flat alone by himself, no doubt he would get board, I just hoped he hadn't left. I wondered where he'd been staying before I "found" him; surely he hadn't just been living on the street. I sighed, my breath coming out in a puff of smoke. I reached the flat complex, walking up the steps and reaching into my pocket for my keys. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, talking off my hat and setting it in the chair next to the door. I hung my coat on the hook on the back of the door and rubbed my hands together. I looked around for Sherlock but he wasn't in the living room. I popped my head into the bathroom, but he wasn't there either. I opened the door to the bedroom and found him on the bed, asleep. I shook my head, heading back into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I pulled the eggs out of the fridge along with some mashed potatoes that had been in the fridge for about a week. I pulled out a pan and set it on the stove, slapping some potatoes into the pan, cracking the eggs over the top. I fried them up, dumping them into a bowl once I'd finished and flopping down on the couch. I turned the telly on, turning the volume down to a low hum and watched whatever was on. I finished my egg potatoes, putting the bowl into the sink and rinsing it out. I sighed, walking into the bedroom, heading to my closet and pulling out a tank-top and jogging pants. I headed to the bathroom, changing and picking up my clothes, throwing them in the hamper in the bedroom. I walked back out into the living room and turned off the telly, laying down on the couch.

* * *

I yawned, stretching my arms over my head. I sighed, getting up and heading to the bedroom. Sherlock had the blankets pulled up over his head and was curled up into a ball.

"Sherlock" I said, shaking him slightly. He groaned, scooting away from me. "Sherlock" I said, shaking him again.

"Hmm" he mumbled.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he mumbled something I couldn't understand. "What was that?" he pulled his head out from under the blankets, squinting at the light and turned to look at me.

"Breakfast?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. I nodded,

"Do you want some?" he nodded. "What would you like?"

"Pancakes and toast" I nodded, squeezing his arm and heading out into the kitchen. Quickly I made his breakfast, bringing it in to him on a tray once I'd finished. I popped the legs out from under the tray, setting it on the floor and prodding Sherlock in the side. He groaned, sitting up. I held a laugh in at the state of his hair, his dark curly locks sticking up in odd spots, tangled and completely disheveled from sleeping under the thick down comforter that was bunched up and half hanging off the bed. I smiled, picking the breakfast tray up off the floor and setting in over the top of him. He didn't say thank you but I didn't expect him to. I sat back in the chair, watching him eat his breakfast. It made me happy to watch him eat, for he looked like he was quite enjoying himself.

"Where's my violin?" he asked between mouthfuls of pancake.

"Your violin?" I asked, my brows crinkling together in confusion for I thought it was in the living room. He nodded. "The living room I should think, where you left it, next to or on the table" he frowned, tilting his head to the side, trying to remember. His eyes widened and he nodded.

"Yes of course" he said, taking a sip of his coffee. He crinkled his nose.

"Don't like my coffee?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How did you make it?"

"Black, two sugars." He nodded once, taking another sip. I smiled knowingly to myself, hiding it behind my hand even though I knew he could tell I was smiling even if he was only seeing me from the corner of his eye. "Well I'm going to take a shower" I stated, pushing myself out of the chair and heading over to the closet, opening it and finding some clothes.

"Don't wear those colours together" Sherlock said, not looking up from his breakfast. I frowned, putting the shirt back and pulling out another. "That works better". I rolled my eyes heading to the bathroom.

* * *

I wasn't surprised to see the table flipped over and papers thrown around the living room when I got home from work. Besides the obvious mess there was something brown and sticky looking leaking out of the microwave. Sherlock was laying in a pile of papers in the middle of the living room, a book open on his chest, his violin laying next to him.

"What did you do?" I asked, throwing my coat into the chair next to the door.

"I was board" he said, his eyes closed.

"What is this mess?"

"I was board" he repeated. I sighed, laying down on the floor next to him, my arms over my head. I looked to my side, my eyes growing wide.

"Are these pages from my red binder?" he shrugged.

"They might be"

"Sherlock!" I screamed. "These are pages from my book"

"They aren't ruined" he said, his voice board and flat. I sat up, pulling pages off the floor around me, getting up and picking pages up from around the room. I pulled pages out from under Sherlock's head, prodding his side and pulling a page out from under him.

"Why'd you do this?" I asked, digging my toe into his side. "And don't reply with 'board'" he sighed, slowly opening his eyes, only to roll them. He breathed in, letting out a long sigh before responding.

"I wanted to read it" he said slowly.

"So you took it apart?" he sighed again.

"Yes" I sighed, shaking my head, picking up the rest of the papers, putting them in order and sticking them back in the binder, that I found shoved under the couch. I sighed, flopping down on the couch, setting the binder next to me. I pinched the bridge of my nose, breathing deeply to calm myself down. I let my hand drop to my side, slowly opening my eyes. Sherlock sat up, the book that had been sitting on his chest dropping to the floor.

"If it means anything, I did think it was quite good." I raised an eyebrow.

"Really, it wasn't too dull for you?"

"Well," I put my hand up.

"No, no I don't want to hear it" he shrugged, placing his violin on his shoulder and pulling the bow across the strings. He played something that was smooth and calming. I closed my eyes once again, leaning back into the couch, listening to him pull the bow back and forth across the violin, the sound smooth and sweet. I was so enthralled with his playing that I didn't notice at first that he had stopped. I opened my eyes, jumping. Sherlock was inches from my face, making me uncomfortable. I leaned back into the couch but his face was still inches from mine.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh"

"What?"

"Shh I'm thinking" I felt unsettled under his gaze, his grey blue eyes roaming over my face, his brow crinkling in and out of confusion. I could see the sadness in his eyes, the lines of worry and for once I noticed how worn he really looked.

"You have freckles on your nose" he said suddenly. I nodded, everybody knew that, even if they weren't plain as day, hell even John had noticed them the day we met. He reached up suddenly, causing me to flinch; he cupped my face with his hands, turning it from side to side. After a moment he let go of my face, nodding to himself, clearly happy with whatever it was that he had deduced. He sat back down on the floor, closing his eyes. He let out a breath then deeply drew one back in.

"You were abused as a child" he stated. "By your mother, who drank, heavily. You were admitted to the hospital on more than one occasion but not by your own doing, perhaps an aunt or a teacher who had seen the bruising more than once. On one occasion when your mother came home drunk she ended up breaking your jaw and on another she broke your wrist. When you were 12 she got a new boyfriend and he tried to get her some help, but she wouldn't listen. He helped you get out of her custody and into another family member's. Your mother had a miscarriage a year before and you've met your father all but once and it was brief, hardly anything to go by." I swallowed thickly, blinking back tears.

My throat was tight and the words were hard to get out but I managed "How did you get all that by looking at my face?" I asked.

"Was I right?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

"Yes" he frowned.

"About everything?"

"Yes" he opened his eyes to look at me, confusion and happiness mixed together in his features.

"Well that doesn't happen too often" I shook my head, smiling slightly

"No I suppose not"

* * *

My phone jingled on the bedside table, waking me up and causing me to groan. I reached over, grabbing my phone and hitting the talk button, not bothering to look at the caller ID and placing it against my ear.

"Hello" I mumbled, hardly awake in the slightest.

"Hello, oh gosh did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," I paused for a moment. "Who is this?"

"John"

"Oh sorry I'm not really awake, didn't look, how are you?" he sighed.

"I'm fine"

"You're lying" he sighed again.

"Alright yes you're right I'm not fine, I haven't been fine for two years, but that's not why I called you"

"Why did you call?" I asked, looking over at the clock on my bedside table, it was 9:00 am. I flopped back into my bed, throwing my arm my face.

"Well it's been a month" I frowned.

"Has it?"

"Yup"

"When do you want me to visit?" he sighed and I could hear him shuffling things around.

"Tomorrow maybe if you could mange"

"Yeah I could do that, maybe stay for a few days"

"Yeah alright"

"Okay, I'll just hop on the train tomorrow morning and let you know when I get there"

"Alright"

"Alright see you tomorrow"

"Bye"

"Bye" I said, hanging up and setting my phone on the table. I heaved myself out of bed and headed into the living room. "Sherlock?" he wasn't in any part of the house. "Sherlock" I called again, thinking maybe he was hiding somewhere. I walked to the front door, opening it and looking out into the hallway, but he wasn't there either. I walked across the hall and knocked on the lady's door. She opened it smiling.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen a man about this tall" I said, holding my arm high above my head. "Dark curly hair" she smiled.

"Actually I have, he's in here, we've just been having some tea" I sighed in relief, my shoulders sagging.

"May I come in?"

"Yes of course" she said, opening the door wide to allow me in. He was sitting on her floral couch, sipping away at his tea and he seemed quite content to stay that way. I placed my hands on my hips, rolling my tongue around in my mouth.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Drinking tea" he stated. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah okay because I didn't already know that" he sighed, setting his cup down on the table, leaning back and crossing his legs.

"I wanted to meet her" I raised an eyebrow.

"You wanted to meet her?"

"Well you're not always home and I wanted to know about her, I see her come and go every day, I was curious is all"

"You could have told me"

"You were asleep" I sighed.

"Alright fine but would you come back to the flat?" he nodded, pushing himself up off the couch.

"It's been nice Mrs. Ramirez" Sherlock said to her.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked.

"Oh don't worry I'll be back" he said, winking before heading out the front door.

* * *

I shut the door behind myself, leaning against it.

"So you like Mrs. Ramirez?" I asked. He nodded.

"You wanted to tell me something?"

"Yeah I'm going to visit John for a few days" shock and confusion passed over his features.

"Why?"

"Because I visit him once a month and it's been a month"

"How long?"

"Just a few days"

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow, in the morning" he nodded, sitting down on the couch and picking up his violin. His playing wasn't smooth like it was the night before, it was rough and fast. I covered my ears, heading into the bedroom.

* * *

I was barely asleep when the bedroom door creaked open. I knew it was Sherlock but I was far too drowsy to care. He sat down on the other side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled.

"Don't worry"

"But what are you doing?"

"I'm just going to sleep for an hour, just go back to sleep"

"Alright" I mumbled, lying back down. He laid down next to me, his back to mine. "Goodnight Sherlock"

"Night"

* * *

He didn't lie, when I woke up he wasn't there but I had a feeling that he hadn't gotten up too long ago because the bed was still warm from where he had slept. I rolled out of bed, yawning and stretching my arms over my head. I headed into the kitchen and jumped when Sherlock popped out from behind the fridge, shoving a cup of coffee into my hands.

"What is this?"

"Coffee, I made coffee"

"You never make coffee" he swallowed, a small, sad smile on his lips.

"I know" I placed a hand on the side of his face, squeezing it slightly.

"Thank you, for this" I said, taking a sip and heading into the living room, sitting down on the couch. Sherlock came in a moment later, carrying his own cup of coffee. I drank my coffee fast, heading back to the kitchen and placing it in the sink, heading to the bathroom to shower. I headed out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over my hair. I dressed quickly into a lace skirt, throwing a light cardigan on slipping on some lace shoes, throwing a necklace on and pushing in feather earrings. I placed clothes into my night bag, throwing it over my shoulder and heading back into the living room. I set my bag down in the chair, heading back into the bathroom and combing through my short hair. I packed things into my toilet bag, bringing it back out into the living room and placing it into my overnight bag. I grabbed my coat from the hook and shoved my arms through. I checked my pockets, making sure I had my gloves. I pulled my hat out from my pocket, pulling it over my ears.

"What good is your hat and mittens going to do if your legs are bare?" Sherlock asked from his place on the couch. I shrugged.

"My legs don't get cold" he nodded. "When I get back I'm going to buy you some clothes" I stated.

"What for?"

"Aren't you sick of wearing the same thing every day?" he shrugged. "Alright fine Sherlock" I said, slipping my phone into my pocket and slinging my bag onto my shoulder.

"Wait" Sherlock said, springing up from the couch to come and stand in front of me.

"What?" he grabbed me round the middle, bringing me in for an awkward hug. I smiled, patting his shoulder. I relaxed into his grip, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pulled back but he just held on.

"Sherlock" I said, pushing on him. "Sherlock I have to leave or I'm going to miss my train" he let me go, straightening himself and clearing his throat, acting as if it hadn't happened.

"Have a ah, a safe trip" I nodded, after a thought I grabbed his face with my hands, leaning up to kiss his forehead.

"I'll be back in about three days"

* * *

The train ride was long and uneventful other than the little girl that sat across from me.

"Where are you going?" she asked, swinging her legs.

"London" I answered simply.

"What for?"

"To visit a friend I haven't seen for a while" she nodded. John was waiting for me at the train station. He smiled when I got closer.

"Hello" I greeted

"Hello"

* * *

The flat was the same as it was when I had come with Sherlock.

"Sorry about the mess" he said, picking things up and moving things around. I shook my head.

"It's alright"

"I just um" he said, throwing a bunch of papers onto Sherlock's old desk. "How long are you staying for?"

"Just a few days" he nodded, flopping down into his chair. I dropped my bag onto the couch and sat in the chair across from John.

"How have you been?" I asked. He sighed, shrugging. "Just tell me"

"It's been about the same, I mean I just"

"Have you been seeing your therapist?" He shook his head. "Why not?"

"She wasn't helping"

"Did you let her help?" he looked away, biting his fingernail. "John, John have you been talking to anyone?" he shook his head.

"Not anymore than I have to" I sighed.

"John, you need to try at least"

"I know" he said, rubbing his face.

"John" he looked up at me. "I want you to start texting me all the time; I want you to tell me about your day" he nodded. "Could you do that so I know you're okay" he nodded again.

"Yeah I can do that."

"Thank you"

* * *

"I have to go talk to Lestrade" John said the next morning during our morning tea. I nodded.

"Mind if I come with?" he nodded. After a few minutes we left. It was cold out, the wind whipping my jacket flaps around. My legs were cold even in my bright yellow jeans and my body wasn't much better even though I had worn a thick star jumper. John flagged down a cab and we hopped inside, heading to Scotland Yard.

"Just ignore everyone" John said once we got in. I nodded, following him around to Lestrade's office. It somehow didn't surprise me that Lestrade was leaning back in his chair, his feet up on his desk, seemingly asleep. John cleared his throat; startling him and making him nearly fall out of his chair.

"John good to see you" he said, coming out from around his desk and shaking John's hand energetically. His eyes roamed over to me. "Who's your friend?" he asked, dropping John's hand. John rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm River" I said, holding out my hand.

"Pleasure to meet you" he said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it slightly. "You said your name is River?" I nodded. "Well that's quite different"

"It's a family name"

"Oh?" I nodded.

**John's POV**

"Lestrade could I talk to you?" I asked.

"Of course" he said, dropping River's hand and walking into the office next to his own, shutting the door behind himself.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

"Talking" I shook my head.

"No that's not what that was just then"

"No you're right, but do you not see how fine she is, she has curves in all the right places"

"Excuse me what?"

"Look if you're not going to make a move on that then I am cause she is one fine piece of ass, you could have a good roll in the hay with her" I couldn't help myself, I pulled back and punched him in the face.

"Have a nice day"

**River's POV**

I was surprised at how fast John had come out.

"We're leaving" he stated.

"Why what happened?"

"We're leaving" he said, again, walking past me and grabbing my wrist, pulling me along. His grip slowly tightened as we continued walking.

"John you're hurting me" I said trying to get my wrist free, but he didn't hear me and his grip tightened. "John" I cried but he still didn't hear me. I stopped walking but since he still had hold of my wrist he was pulled back. "John you're hurting me" I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. He stopped, looking down at his hand wrapped around my wrist. His eyes widened and he let go. I brought my wrist to my chest, rubbing it with my other hand.

"I'm so sorry" he said softly. I shook my head, wiping at my eyes.

"I'm fine"

"I shouldn't have done that, that wasn't very nice of me" I shook my head. "Let me see" I held my wrist closer to myself, shaking my head. "River" I sighed, holding out my wrist for him to look at. He turned it over, touching parts of it gently. I winched when he bent it forward and back.

"Yeah" he said, dropping my wrist. "It's sprained, we'll have to go to the hospital" I nodded as John flagged down a cab.

* * *

I sat in one of the hard uncomfortable blue plastic chairs that lined the waiting area of the ER. John was pacing in front of me, constantly looking back at me. I knew he hadn't meant to hurt me it was just what ever had gone on with Lestrade that had upset him. I knew he hadn't meant to hurt me.

"Are you alright?" he asked again for probably the twentieth time. I nodded; I was as fine as I was going to be with a sprained wrist. Finally they called my name and I followed the overly handsome doctor through the swinging doors, John following close behind. The doctor had me sit down on the examination table, lifting up my wrist. He turned it around and squeezed it slightly, making me wince. John rolled his eyes, making an unamused expression that made me start giggling. He turned to look at me and smiled slightly.

"Alright well it's for sure sprained" the doctor stated. John rolled his eyes again and whispered quietly.

"No really?"

"Excuse me what?" John looked up at the doctor and shook his head slightly, the small smile still, plastered to his face.

"Nothing" John said shaking his head. "I didn't say anything." The doctor shook his head and turned back to me.

"Alright I'll have a nurse come with a brace in a moment or two so just sit tight" he said, flashing me a smile. I started laughing once he left the room.

"No really" I said in mockery of John. He laughed lightly. "My god" it didn't take long for the nurse to show up and strap the brace to my wrist. When we left I was still laughing slightly. John flagged down a cab and we headed back to 221B Baker St.

* * *

"I'm really sorry about your wrist" John said again. I shrugged. "But I sprained it" he stated.

"John I know you didn't mean it"

"It's still not okay that I did that"

"John please don't beat yourself up over this"

"River you don't understand the fact that I had the strength to do that is what makes me mad and upset"

"John I understand but I'm fine, don't be upset" he sighed, shaking his head, flopping down in the arm chair. I sat down in the chair across from him, leaning forward and squeezing his knee. I looked up at me and I smiled slightly.

* * *

John took me out for breakfast the next morning, still mumbling about how sorry he was. I ignored his apologies and simply tried to enjoy myself as I slid into the both. The waitress came over, flipping her bleach blonde hair and smacking her gum.

"What can I get 'cha?" she asked, flipping open her ticket book. I looked across the menu one last time before closing it and setting it on the edge of the table.

"I'll have a ham and cheese omelet" I said smiling. "With apple juice" she nodded, writing it down quickly and turning to John.

"Scrambled eggs and bacon" John said, closing his menu. "With coffee" the waitress nodded, grabbing our menus and heading behind the counter.

"How's your wrist?" John asked, sipping his water.

"It's fine, a little sore but not too bad" he nodded playing with his napkin. "John if you don't stop bothering me about it I'm going to hit you" a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "With this hand" I said, holding up my left and wiggling it in its brace. He shook his head, still smiling slightly. We sat in silence for a moment or two until the waitress came with our drinks. I smiled politely up at her but she ignored me, choosing instead to wink at John.

"Well someone fancies you" I stated once she was out of ear shot. John blushed, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, I ah saw that" I shrugged.

"Well she's cute" I stated, taking a sip of my juice. John looked up at me.

"Excuse me?" I shrugged.

"All I'm saying is she isn't bad looking and I'm sure she'll leave her number on the back on the bill" John shook his head, turning away from me. I laughed lightly to myself at his embarrassedness.

"Oh John don't act like it never happens"

"Yeah but that doesn't mean you need to point it out" I nodded, drinking some more of my juice. We didn't have to wait long after that for our food. We ate our meals, not saying much of anything, just shoveling food into our faces. When the waitress came back with the bill, she slid it under John's plate, winking before heading over to another table. He picked it up, looking at the back of it, nodding to himself.

"You were right, she did leave her number"

"Are you gonna call her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"Oh I don't know, don't you think she's a bit young for me?" I looked over at her and shrugged. "How old do you suppose she is?" he asked. Again I shrugged.

"Oh I don't know about college age I would suppose" he nodded.

"Yeah still too young"

* * *

I loved spending time with John, but as much as I did I hated being in London. Too crowed and busy. I reminded him to text me and if ever he wanted to visit me or vice versa before the month was up to give me a call. The train jerked to a halt and I stepped out, heading to the main road and catching a cab. I shut the door to the cab and walked up the steps, taking them two at a time. I pulled my keys out of my pocket, unlocking the door to the flat. Surprisingly the flat was cleaner than when I had left it which was surprising.

"Sherlock?" I called, dropping my things by the front door. There was no reply from Sherlock and I could only assume that he was in the bedroom. I headed in that direction, slowly opening the door. He was laying across the bed, hanging over the edges, his violin lying next to him. I turned and looked around the room and gasped. The light grey walls were covered in layers of writing, writing that I didn't understand and couldn't make out. I turned back to look at Sherlock and leaned in over him, my face inches from his. Suddenly his eyes popped open, making me scream and fall back onto the floor.

"Oh you're home" he stated, still lying across the bed, seemingly unaffected by my scream.

"What in the hell did you do to the wall" I breathed out. He sat up, looking about at the walls.

"I was,"

"If you say board don't think that I won't hesitate to punch you"

"I was trying to figure something out, I couldn't think straight so I wrote it down"

"On the wall?" he nodded.

"It's not in permanent marker if that's what you're thinking" I sighed, getting up from my spot on the floor and heading into the kitchen and pulling a bucket out from under the sink, filling it with water and grabbing the washcloth and sponge from the sink, heading back to the bedroom. I squatted down next to the bucket, dipping the sponge in and ringing it out.

"What happened to your wrist?" I frowned, turning to look at him.

"Has all the blood from your body rushed to your head at this point?" he sat up quickly, steadying himself as he did so.

"You didn't answer my question"

"I sprained it" I said shrugging, turning back to the wall and rubbing the sponge on the words that were smeared there. I didn't know when Sherlock had gotten off the bed but suddenly he was behind me, breathing down the back of my neck. "Personal space Sherlock, come on" I said, scrubbing at the words.

"How'd it happen?" I rolled my eyes.

"John pulled on my wrist too hard" I said, turning to look at him. He frowned and I reached up, smoothing the crease between his brows. "Something Lestrade said upset him and he reached for my wrist to pull me along and he just happened to pull too hard" I said, turning once again to the wall. It didn't take long for me to wash a small area of the wall and I felt proud of myself, but Sherlock was still sitting behind me. He was still frowning when I turned around.

"What did Lestrade say?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I have no idea; John wouldn't tell me no matter how much I pestered him about it" his frown deepened. I stood up and walked around Sherlock, washing the rest of the wall off. When I finished I flopped down on the floor, throwing the sponge in the bucket of dirty water. Sherlock was still sitting in the same position that he had been for the last hour. I sighed, standing up and shoving Sherlock lightly.

"Get up", he continued to stare forward. "Get up" I said again, shoving him. He didn't move. I sighed, rolling my eyes, walking over and picking up my bucket, dumping it out in the sink and flopping down on the couch. Sherlock came out after a while and stared at me.

"He sprained your wrist" I nodded, flipping through channels on the telly. He came to stand in front of me, frowning deeply. I leaned from side to side, trying to see around him. I sighed, sitting back.

"Look its fine" I said holding up my wrist, waving it around in its brace. He reached out, grabbing my arm right under the brace, turning it around. He peeled the Velcro back and slipped my hand out of the brace, bringing it closer to his face.

"Did they tell you to put any ice on it?" I shook my head. "You should, put some ice on it, I'll get you some" he let go of my arm and headed into the kitchen, opening the freezer and taking out the ice tray, setting it on the counter. He pulled the dish towel off of the hook hanging on the door in front of the sink and cracked the ice cube tray into the towel. He folded it up and twisted it a few times, coming back into the living room and sitting down next to me. He pulled my hand over and gently placed the ice on it. I bit my lip and breathed in deeply. He looked up at me, a small frown starting to form, I smiled slightly and he looked back down at my wrist. He moved the ice around, making me wince. He looked up at me again.

"It's fine" I said. He nodded.

"It's because it's swollen" he stated. I nodded as he moved the ice again. He held the ice on my wrist until my wrist was numb and the ice was melted.

"It should start to feel better" he said, slipping my brace back on and fixing the Velcro.

"Thank you" he nodded, standing up and heading to the kitchen, placing the dish towel on the counter. I moved my fingers around in its brace, trying to get some feeling back into them. He sat down next to me and looked over at me with concern.

"I'm fine" I said but still he looked at me with utmost concern. "I've only sprained my wrist" I said "It's not like I'm deathly ill" he frowned, turning to look at the TV, ignoring me and keeping a look of concern on his face.

* * *

I woke up late the next morning to Sherlock standing over me. I shrieked, jumping back on the bed and nearly falling off the other side. He frowned at my screaming and sat on the edge of bed that I was no longer occupying.

"What were you doing?" I asked, slightly breathless from the shock, my heart beating faster than normal.

"Waiting for you to wake up"

"Well, that's one way to do it I suppose" I said, tucking my short hair behind my ear. I slid off the edge of the bed, standing up and stretching my arms over my head, groaning as I did so.

"You want breakfast?" I asked. He shook his head, his dark curls brushing his forehead. "Coffee then?" he didn't answer but I figured he wanted some. I headed into the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Sherlock came into the kitchen after a while and leaned against the fridge, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked, opening the cabinet and grabbing two mugs. He shook his head. "How come?" he shrugged.

"I wasn't tired" he stated. I nodded, pulling the coffee pot off the maker and filling up the two mugs. I dropped two sugars in the one and stirred it slightly, reaching behind myself and handing it to Sherlock. He took it and I turned back to mine, dropping in three sugars and a dab of milk, stirring it until it was the desired colour. I brought the brightly coloured mug to my lips, blowing on the coffee to cool it down. I sipped it and let the liquid warm my insides.

"I'm going to the store to buy you clothes today" I stated. Sherlock nodded. "So I'll need to take your measurements" again he nodded. I finished my coffee and set the cup in the sink, heading into the bedroom to grab my tape measure. I unrolled it and stood on the kitchen, waiting for Sherlock to finish his coffee. When he did he placed his cup in the sink and came into the living room, sticking his arms out. I placed the metal tip on the end of his left sleeve, rolling it across his back to the end of his other sleeve. I wrote down the length and then measured the length of his back, then his torso and each of his arms. I brought the measuring tape around his waist and measured his legs.

"Thank you" I said, rolling up the measuring tape. He nodded, fixing his shirt. I headed back into the bedroom changing my clothes and grabbing my purse and phone. I put the notebook I had taken the measurements on in my purse. I grabbed my coat and gave Sherlock a peck on the cheek, locking the door behind myself.

* * *

I check my phone after I hopped into the cab; I had three texts from John.

_I apologized to Lestrade ~JW_

_He was still mad ~JW_

_I went back to talk to my therapist ~JW_

I smiled to myself and texted back.

_It was nice of you to apologize and I'm glad that you went and talked to your therapist ~RC_

I paid the cabbie and swung the door open to the shop. As soon as I breathed in the scent of the store there was a worker next to me.

"How may I help you?" he asked. I smiled politely.

"I think I'm fine but thanks" he nodded and headed back to wherever it was that he'd come from. I wondered around the store for longer than necessary before finding about eight things. I don't think the workers expected a woman to come into a men's clothing store but hell if I was gonna be bothered by their dirty looks when I finally did buy my items.

* * *

I heaved my shopping bags up the stairs and nearly fell over trying to open the door. When I did finally get the door open I dropped the bags on the floor by the couch and went to find Sherlock. He was sitting on the floor in the bathroom. The tub was full of water that I assumed was hot judging by the steam that was coming off it. His eyes were closed and his hands together, his finger tips on his chin.

"You're home" I nodded.

"Why is the tub full of water?"

"I was going to bathe"

"And you haven't yet?" he shook his head. "Well I'll leave you to it then I guess" I said, backing up out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind myself. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out.

_My therapist says I should talk to you more ~JW, _I smiled to myself.

_So talk to me ~RC_. I flipped on the telly and scrolled through the channels until I found something somewhat decent to watch. My phone buzzed again and I picked it up.

_I texted him ~JW_

_Texted who? ~RC _I frowned down at my phone.

_Sherlock ~JW_

_Why? ~RC_

_Honestly I wasn't thinking I just did it and I felt like I should tell you ~JW. _I stuck my phone in my pocket and walked over to the bathroom, knocking on the door. I didn't get an answer.

"Sherlock" I said, knocking on the door again. He opened it a second later, his hair wet and sticking to his face.

"What?" he asked.

"You got a text from John?" he frowned, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh yes I did"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he frowned.

"I didn't think you'd care" I frowned and ignored the buzzing of my phone.

"Has he texted you before?"

"He has yes"

"You don't reply do you?"

"Don't be stupid, of course not" I frowned again and I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

_I asked him if he wanted me to pick something up from the store and I was worried for some time when he didn't text back and then I remembered. ~JW_ I turned my phone for Sherlock to see. He nodded.

"Yes I remember that" I sighed.

"Fine whatever" I said, walking back to the living room and sitting down on the couch.

_Have you told your therapist? ~RC _

_No I didn't want her to know because this hasn't been the first time ~JW_.

* * *

"Give me your phone" I said to Sherlock once he had come out of the bathroom and sat down next to me. He rolled his eyes, handing me his phone. I scrolled through his texts, surprised at the amount from John after the days and even weeks of his "death". They seemed to come in a continuous streak until about three months ago but as of a week ago they started coming back in quick succession.

"I don't know why you're surprised he does this all the time, I'm hardly shock when he does it, half the time I don't even notice"

"Alright fine" I said, handing him his phone. "Your clothes are right here" I said, grabbing the bags and setting them around Sherlock. "I hope everything fits" he started pulling this out to look at them.

"Thank you" he said, putting everything back.

"You're welcome" I said turning back to the crappy show on the telly.

* * *

My phone buzzing woke me in the middle of the night, I wanted to ignore it but I figured it was John and I knew that I should answer it. I groaned, rolling over and grabbing it off the bedside table.

"Hello" I mumbled into the receiver.

"River, look I know it's late but I needed to talk to you" he sounded worried and tired.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up, waking up faster than I ever have in my life.

"I can't stop texting him, I keep thinking that he's not dead and I text him during the day but I know after I send it that he's never going to text back"

"John I'm sorry" I said, brushing hair out of my face.

"I'm just so frustrated and upset"

"John"

"I just wanted to hear you say it's okay"

"John I know that you're upset and there is nothing I can say to make feel better I really don't know what to say, I don't know what you're feeling and I'm sorry, I really am"

"Thank you" he said before hanging up. I sighed, setting my phone back on the table. The sound of Sherlock's violin pierced through the quiet with gentle soothing notes. I slid off the bed and headed into the living room, staring at Sherlock from the door way. I loved watching him play, like I like to watch him think. He was frowning as he pulled the bow across the strings and it made me wonder what he was thinking and for once I wondered what it was like in his head, how he saw the world and what he thought of it. The world was a cruel place to someone who couldn't see into its heart and it must be hell for him. He stopped playing suddenly and set his violin on his knee, his frown deepening. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself tight. Sherlock shook his head, placing his violin under his chin and again beginning to play.


	2. Chapter 2

I yawned, stretching my arms over my head, and walking out into the hallway, nearly tripping over a stack of books that had been placed near the bedroom door in the hall. I caught myself quickly on the wall and frowned, only slightly wondering why there was a stack of books sitting in the hallway. I shook my head, not giving it much thought and continued on to the kitchen. Quickly I made my coffee and went into the living room, standing in the door way. I wasn't surprised to see Sherlock sprawled out on the floor as it seemed to be a common occurrence with him. I assumed he was thinking and said nothing, only staring down at him. He must have sensed that I was standing there for after a moment he looked up at me before slamming his head back down on the floor, quite hard by the looks of it. I sipped my coffee in moderation, continuing to stare at him.

"I need to smoke" he stated, I frowned, shifting slightly.

"What?"

"I. Need. To. Smoke" he said, separating the words. I nodded, stepping over him and setting my mug down on the table for a moment.

"Do you want me to head to the store?" he sat up quickly.

"Could you?" I nodded, picking up my mug and bringing it up to my lips, swallowing a considerable amount of the steadily growing cold coffee. I headed back into the kitchen and dumped the rest of the caramel coloured coffee down the sink, setting the mug on the counter. I headed back into the bedroom, being careful not to trip over the books, and threw some jeans on, pulling a jumper over my head. I walked back into the living room, slipping on my shoes and grabbing my coat from the hook on the back of the door. I grabbed some money from my wallet, sticking it in my pocket.

"I'll be back in a bit" I said before heading out the door.

* * *

I headed up the stairs and unlocked the door to the flat, slipping my coat off and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door.

"Here" I said, tossing Sherlock (who had moved from the floor to the couch) the pack of cigarettes and the lighter, keeping the other pack in the back pocket of my jeans. He looked around the room before getting up and taking the smoke detector off the wall and taking the batteries out, placing them in his pocket and doing the same with the other three in the house. He sat back down on the couch and took out a cigarette, placing it in-between his lips and lighting it. He let out a sigh of relief and smoke.

"Needed that for a while" he stated.

"Then why didn't you say something?" he shrugged.

"Didn't need it that bad" I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to him on the couch, waving my hand to keep the smoke out of my face. He sighed, leaning back into the couch. Upon realizing I didn't have an ashtray I pushed myself up and headed into the kitchen to grab a bowl out of the cupboard. I brought it back into the living room and handed it to Sherlock; he took it and set in on his lap, nodding his in thanks.  
"I have to work tonight" I stated. He turned to look at me, blowing his smoke out in my face. "Could you not" I said, waving the smoke out of my face. "I would prefer not to smell like cigarette smoke" he frowned, putting his cigarette out in the bowl.  
"You don't usually have to work at night" I shrugged.  
"Well tonight I have to" his frowned deepened, causing me to roll my eyes and shove off the couch and head to the bathroom to shower.

* * *

The sun was just coming up, lighting up the sky as I headed home from work, my heels clicking on the pavement and splashing in small puddles along the way. I was tired and thought only of my warm bed back at the flat. My phone rang inside my purse and I pulled it out, looking at the ID. I didn't recognize the number but answered it all the same.  
"Hello?"  
"A car is going to pull alongside you, when it does get in" the man on the other end of the line hung up and no sooner than he did a black car pulled up next to me. I frowned, looking from my phone to the car but got in anyway. I looked at the woman texting away on her phone and tried my best to hide my nervousness. When the car stopped the women told we where to head. I entered the room that housed nothing more than a chair and looked around. After a moment a figure came into view but kept to the shadows of the room.  
"Miss River, please have a seat" I looked behind myself and sat in the thick metal chair, setting my purse on the floor next to the chair. I crossed my legs and shifted in the chair in an attempt to get comfortable. The man came closer and suddenly I realized who it was.  
"Mycroft Holmes I presume" he smiled slightly.  
"You know of me then?" I nodded.  
"I've heard of you yes"  
"John?" I nodded. "You've been housing my brother?"  
"Yes and why may I ask have you brought me here?"  
"So we could have a chat"  
"About?"  
"My brother of course" I nodded, scooting around in my chair, the cold metal of the chair slowly making the backs of legs numb. "Have you been keeping him indoors"  
"Of course, I'm not stupid you know"  
"I never said you were"  
"How did he survive a jump like that?" He laughed lightly.  
"Let's keep that between he and I"  
"Did he come to you after?"  
"Of course, it was my job to keep him hidden but after a month he disappeared and hasn't resurfaced until now"  
"Glad I could help"  
"I'm deeply surprised that you haven't made an attempt on his life yet" I laughed slightly.  
"Yeah so am I" I found myself admitting. "Are we done here?"  
"I suppose so" I nodded, grabbing my bag from the floor and standing up, stretching my arms over my head and shaking my legs.  
"I'll have the car take you home"

* * *

"What took you so long?" Sherlock asked as soon as I had shut the door behind myself.  
"Ran into your brother" he frowned.  
"Mycroft?"  
"Do you have another brother?" I asked, hanging my coat on the hook on the back of the door and kicking off my shoes. I sighed, sitting down next to Sherlock.  
"Did you sleep at all?" I asked. He shook his head. "I didn't think so but I thought I'd ask" I looked over at Sherlock and frowned, reaching up and pulling back part of Sherlock's robe.  
"Is your shirt inside out"  
"Yes, the seams irritate my skin"  
"You're a strange man Sherlock Holmes" a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he shook his head. I looked at the table, noticing it was in total disarray and noticing the discarded cigarette butts in the bowl I had given him the day before.  
"Did you smoke the whole pack while I was gone?" He nodded. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I yawned, stretching my arms over my head, wholly prepared for sleep. I let my arms flop to my sides and leaned over, resting my head on Sherlock's shoulder. He tensed at the sudden contact but after a moment relaxed and allowed my head to lie on his shoulder. When he spoke it was soft and quiet and for a moment I thought I hadn't heard him.

"Why are you so nice to me?" I shrugged against his shoulder.

"Why shouldn't I be nice to you?"

"I've done nothing to be worthy of your kindness" I smiled softly.

"Kindness isn't something you have to earn Sherlock" I stated. "It's simply given out"

* * *

**Sherlock's POV**

She fell asleep slumped against my shoulder and it looked to be very uncomfortable. I shifted slightly and a soft sound escaped her lips. I stopped moving and she made no more noise. I leaned back into the couch, blinking to stay awake. Should I relax my mind in the slightest after not having slept in days I begin to feel the weariness of my overly human body. That was something John always reminded me to do, to sleep to rest. I sighed heavily to myself, turning to face River. I stared at her for a great length of time, deciding. I shook my head and slipped an arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, awkwardly lifting her and carrying her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

* * *

**River's POV**

It was late when I woke, as I guessed it would be the sky outside my window dark and grey. I looked around, confused. I was sure that I had fallen asleep on the couch, slumped against Sherlock. I sat up, smoothing my hair down and running my fingers through it. Sherlock came in while I was still waking up, with a cup of coffee in his hands. He pulled the chair from the desk over to the side of the bed and sat down in it, handing me the cup.

"Thank you" I mumbled, bringing the cup to my lips, sipping it in moderation. He watched me from the chair, crossing one leg over the other. I drank more of my coffee, letting it wake me up. I opened my mouth to speak but Sherlock beat me to the punch.

"I carried you in here" he stated.

"Thank you" I mumbled, drinking more of my coffee, the cup nearly empty. I looked over at the clock and was only slightly shocked to see it was nearly two in the morning.

"Sherlock do you never sleep?" he smiled.

"Of course I sleep, just not as often as some" I nodded, crossing my legs under myself and holding my cup in both hands. I stared at Sherlock, studying his face and features for sometime before opening my mouth to speak.

"Do you ever miss John, or Mrs. Hudson, or Lestrade?" he frowned, titling his head.

"Of course I do"

"Do you ever miss Molly or your brother?" his frown deepened.

"I informally miss my brother yes"

"And what of Molly?"

"Molly" he whispered quietly, seemingly more to himself than to me. "I miss Molly yes, why do you ask such silly questions?"

"Because you look lonely" his frown, that had nearly gone from before returned once again to his features.

"Lonely?" I nodded. "I don't get lonely" I nodded again.

"Yes you do or else you wouldn't put up with me and my damned house rules and neither would you go across the hall and sit and chat with a lonely old woman unless you yourself got lonely. You think I can't see your reaction when I come back to the flat?"

"I don't react when you come back."

"Yes you do Sherlock and you know you do. I see you. If you're sitting on the couch you'll straighten up as if you've been waiting for me, if you're laying on the floor you'll sit up to make sure it's me and most certainly when I get up in the morning the slight pull at the corner of your mouth. You think I don't notice because you think I'm dull but I can see." He turned slightly away from me and said softly,

"I don't think you're dull."

"As you shouldn't"

"How is John?" He asked, his face still turned away from me. I shrugged.

"As well as he can be" he nodded. "I'm going to surprise visit him"

"When?"

"Probably tomorrow"

"He'll be worried about your wrist"

"I had the brace taken off a week ago" he raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. "Anyway should I fix some breakfast?"

"Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"It's never too early for breakfast"

* * *

I hopped on the train and settled myself into my seat, prepared for the uneventful trip to London and not looking forward to attempting to hail a cab. I closed my eyes, drumming my fingers on the table in front of me trying to keep a steady rhythm but always seeming to screw up. Another set of tapping started when mine had stopped and I assumed it was the gentleman who had just sat down across from me, judging by the smell of his cologne. I smiled to myself; god was I turning into Sherlock. I opened my eyes and smiled politely at the young man sitting across from me. He looked to be about high school age, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

"Hello" I said politely.

"Hello"

"What are you headed to London for?" I asked.

"I have to go to work with my dad today but I woke up too late so he told me to take the train" I nodded. "What are you going to London for?"

"To visit an old friend"

* * *

I wasn't surprised when Mrs. Hudson greeted me at the door.

"Oh River dear we weren't expecting you"

"It's a surprise"

"And what a time to visit, he could use a friend right now" I frowned.

"Why has something happened?"

"He hasn't left the house in a week and he won't eat" I thanked Mrs. Hudson and pounded up the stairs to his flat and slowly opened the door. He was sitting in his usual arm chair, staring blankly out the window.

"John" I said from the doorway. When he didn't respond I moved to stand in front of him. I studied his features, trying to see something. The only things I could really tell for sure were that he had not in fact eaten in a few days, nor by the looks of it showered, slept, or changed clothes.

"John" I said again, shaking him slightly. He seemed to come out of his stupor and frowned up at me.

"River what are you doing here?"

"I'd thought I'd visit and a good thing I did too" I sat down in the arm chair across and looked at John. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday" I raised an eyebrow. "Yesterday River, I ate yesterday don't make that face at me."

"And the last time you showered?"

"Yesterday"

"Changed?"

"Yesterday"

"Sweetie what day do you think it is?"

"Tuesday, today is Tuesday isn't it?" I shook my head.

"Today's Friday"

* * *

He frowned.

"I could have sworn it was Tuesday" I shook my head.

"No John today is Friday" he frowned and shook his head, shrugging it off. "I'll tell you what John, I'll run to the store and pick up some groceries, if you go take a shower" he nodded. I smiled and patted his knee, heaving myself out of the chair and heading out the door.

**John's POV**  
I tied the tie around my robe, running a towel over my wet hair, heading into the living room and flopping down in the chair. I stared at the grey arm chair across from me and sighed. I could hear River coming up the stairs, sounding heavily burdened with groceries. She walked into the kitchen and threw the groceries on the table that since had been emptied of science equipment. I could hear her shuffling around in the kitchen, placing things in cupboards and in the fridge (which had since been cleaned of fingers and heads). I sighed, standing up and walking into the kitchen, watching as she placed things here and there.

"Going to get dressed John?"  
"Yup going right now"

**River's POV**  
I finished putting groceries away as John went to get dressed. He came back down after I had thrown away the shopping bags. He sat down in the arm chair and sighed.  
"John are you hungry?" I asked, coming to stand in front of him. He shrugged. "Alright I'll cook you something" I said, heading back into the kitchen.

I set the food in front of John and he stared at it blankly. I rolled my eyes and sat down in the chair across from him. I picked up my sandwich and took a rather large bite out of it. I swallowed thickly and looked at John.  
"John please eat" he shook his head. "John please" again he shook his head.  
"I'm not hungry"  
"Surely you must be hungry, you have eaten since Tuesday" for the third time he shook his head.  
"I don't want to"  
"Well that's quite a bit different from not being hungry" I said, setting my plate on the table next to me. He shrugged. I leaned forward, grabbing his hands and holding them in mine.  
"John you have to take care of yourself" a small sad smile spread across his face and he shook his head.  
"I don't have to do anything"  
"John please don't do this to yourself, don't let yourself waste away to nothing, I know it's,"  
"You know it's hard," John said, cutting me off. "That's what you were going to say but you know what, you don't know, nobody knows. Everyone thinks they know what it feels like, everyone pretends to know and they think they know what I'm going through and none of them have any clue, not a one of them, so don't sit there and tell me you know how it feels when you have no idea what it feels like." I swallowed, gripping John's hands tighter.  
"You're right John I don't know what it feels like to lose a friend, let alone a best friend because I've never had any friends to lose. But I'm losing you, and seeing you like this is tearing my heart out," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "You're making it so hard for the people near to you, for the people that care about you; I don't want anything bad to happen to you." The tears spilled out of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks in quick succession. "You're the only friend I've ever had and if I lose you I'll be alone and that feeling is enough to consume me and destroy me and I don't want to feel that way" he swallowed, turning his head away from me. After a moment he turned back to look at me, blinking rapidly and making a face that I knew meant he was trying to hold back to tears.  
"I'm sorry" he choked out. "I don't mean to hurt you, I just, I wanted to hurt myself"  
"Why?"  
"Because, I just, I feel like it's my fault, I feel like there should have been something I could have done"  
"John this isn't your fault" he shook his head, rubbing his thumbs on the back of my knuckles. "John," I said, the tears drying on my cheeks. "It's not your fault." He looked up at me, the same sad smile on his face.  
"Then why do I feel like it is?" I shook my head.  
"Because whenever we lose someone for no reason we need someone to blame" John let out a small strangled sound that sounded as if it resembled a laugh.  
"There's no one else to blame but myself"  
"So blame me" I said, looking him in the eye.  
"But I don't want to hate you and I have no reason to believe it was your fault" I sighed.  
"Can you at least stop blaming yourself?" he sighed and shrugged.  
"I suppose I can try" I smiled, kissing his forehead and squeezing his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

I flopped down on my bed, glad to be back in the warmth of my own flat and the comfort of my own bed. Upon my leaving Mrs. Hudson promised she would keep an eye on John, promising that she would force him to eat. Sherlock had been asleep, curled up on the couch when I got back and I hadn't felt the need to bother him. I yawned, stretching my arms over my head and curling up on my side. I shut my eyes, sighing happily.

"Back from John's I see" Sherlock's voice came from the door way but I simply nodded in response. "How was he?" I sighed but didn't open my eyes or move from the position I was in.

"He hadn't eaten, or slept, or bathed since Tuesday" Sherlock said nothing so I assumed he was thinking. I curled into myself more and heard him scrap the chair over to the side of the bed. I opened my eyes and looked at him and in return he frowned at me.

"What?"He asked his frown deep. I shrugged.

"You know John really misses you" Sherlock froze, granted he hadn't been moving much before but his body tensed and he seemed to be holding his breath. "I mean he really does" I said, letting my arm fall and drape over the edge of the bed. "I mean you were his best friend"

"I know" Sherlock said softly. "I know"

* * *

I trudged up the stairs to the flat, leaning to one side with the weight of the shopping bags. Sherlock had insisted that I pick up a few items from the store for him. The list seemed to be a hodge-podge of random items but supposedly they made sense to him. I opened the door, bumping it open with my hip, walking into the kitchen and setting the bags on the floor. I sighed, standing up straight and stretching my arms over my head. I turned and shrieked at the closeness of Sherlock, how I hadn't noticed him breathing down my neck I didn't know. He reached out, placing his hand on the side of my face. He placed his other hand on my waist and pulled me closer to him. He stared at my lips for a moment before scanning his eyes over the rest of my face. He pulled me a bit closer so our lips were inches apart.

"Sherlock, what?"

"Shh" he said softly, placing his soft lips on mine. I gasped and he took advantage of it, slipping his tongue into my mouth. The hand on my waist moved to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. I reached up, tangling my fingers in his raven curls and grabbing a fist-full of his shirt. I stood up on my toes, pressing our lips closer together. His hand that rested on my face, brushed my cheek, his fingers moving to the back of my neck, his thumb staying on my cheek. His other hand came around to my waist, his thumb and index fingers sliding under my shirt. He rubbed his thumb across the skin there and I let out a soft moan. He pulled back for a moment and raised an eyebrow and for a moment I regretted ever making noise but then his lips were back on mine. Sherlock was a surprisingly good kisser and judging from the way he kissed I wouldn't have doubted if he was an incredible lover as well. I tugged on his hair, making him kiss me harder. I pulled back, kissing along his jaw line, going up to nibble on his ear. He brought my lips back to his, kissing me slowly and drawing it out. He pulled away, both of us breathing heavily.

"Thank you" he whispered quietly.

"Sherlock what was that?" I breathed out.

"An experiment" my heart sunk and felt lodged in my throat at the same time. I nodded, of course it was an experiment, what else would it have been? After all it was Sherlock Holmes.

"I ah, I brought the stuff you asked for" I said, indicating to the shopping bags. He nodded, straightening his shirt.

"I see" I nodded.

"I hope it all suits your fancy" I said heading into the bedroom and shutting the door.

* * *

I woke up the next morning in a pool of my own sweat. My dreams the night before had been fevered and dirty as I hadn't expected them to. I rubbed my face, brushing hair out of my eyes. I wanted to ask Sherlock what his "experiment" was about but at the same time I wanted to stay away from him. Who does he think he is? Playing with my emotions like that? I shook my head, stretching and heading out to the kitchen. I made myself a cup of tea, leaning against the sink and peering into the living room. Sherlock was sitting cross-legged on the couch, his chin resting on the tips of his steepled fingers. I sipped my tea and watched him.

"If you think I can't feel your eyes on me then you'd be wrong" I rolled my eyes and shook my head, pushing off from the counter and walking over to sit next to Sherlock. He opened an eye to look at me then quickly shut it. "May I ask why you aren't wearing any pants?"

"Come off it Sherlock, I've got my panties on and an overly large t-shirt, I'm fine. If you have such a problem with it than don't look" I small smile tugged at the corners off Sherlock's mouth.

"I haven't got a problem with it"

"Good" I said nodding, drinking more of my tea. "So you wanna tell me about this experiment you were conducting yesterday?" Sherlock's eyes slowly opened and he turned to look at me.

"No" I raised an eyebrow

"No?"

"Correct" I nodded.

"Hey how about next time you do an experiment you tell me first" he smiled.

"If I told you about it in advance the results would not have been the same"

"Oh wouldn't they have?" Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh and turned to me.

"Yes they wouldn't have turned out the same, now if you would be as kind as to drop the subject"

"Fine" I said, turning again to my tea and taking a rather large drink of it.

* * *

I woke myself up in the middle of the night coughing, unable to stop. I stumbled into the bathroom coughing and spitting out the mucus into the sink. I turned on the faucet, still hacking my lungs out and placed the glass under running water and taking a drink of it. I was surprised at how cold I suddenly was. I trudged back into the bedroom, pulling on a sweatshirt. I coughed, heading into the living room and flopping down on the couch next to Sherlock.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked my voice already horse from my coughing. He shook his head. "Don't you ever get tired?" I asked, yawning. He rolled his eyes, turning to look at me.

"Of course, don't be stupid"

"Sorry" I said, coughing. I placed a hand over my mouth, unable to stop the coughs from shaking my body. Sherlock turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. I shrugged my shoulders as I continued to cough.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No I think I'm sick" I said once my coughs had subsided. Sherlock again raised an eyebrow. "What? It's not like I got sick on purpose" I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. "I'm tired" I said yawning.

"So go to sleep" I nodded, pulling my legs up to my chest and curling into Sherlock's side. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "This isn't exactly what I meant"

"Then carry me" I said yawning. He shook his head and I smiled. "Then shut up" I said, grabbing a handful of his shirt and curling into him.

* * *

I woke up the next morning with a blanket laid across my back and my face pressed into the couch. I lifted my head slightly to see that I was half lying on a shirt, holding the rest of it tightly in my hands. I sat, bringing the shirt with me. I sat still for a moment, closing my eyes and trying to get my head to stop spinning. I brought the shirt to my face, breathing in deeply. The shirt smelt of coffee, light cigarette smoke and a hint of lemon-pepper. I pulled the shirt away for a moment before pressing it into my face again. I got the same smells but this time with a hint of evergreen. It was Sherlock's shirt and it smelt the way I thought it would. I held the shirt close to my face, breathing deeply as Sherlock walked in, holding a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at me.

"Why do you smell like evergreen?" he frowned, taking a drink of his coffee.

"Why?" I nodded. "How should I know, why does it matter?" I shrugged.

"It just doesn't seem logical" he frowned.

"It's not logical what you smell like either" I raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat, taking a drink of his coffee. "So how are you feeling?"

"Worse" he nodded, wrapping his hands tighter around his mug. "By the way how did I acquire your shirt?"

"You fell asleep on top of me and this morning when I went to get up you had hold of my shirt and wouldn't let go so I took it off." I nodded, pressing the shirt closer to my face, leaning back onto the couch. Sherlock walked over to the couch, lifting up my legs and sitting at the end, placing my feet on his lap. I placed his shirt over my face and once again breathed in the sweet aroma that was Sherlock.

* * *

**Narrator's POV**

Over the course of the next few weeks River became steadily sicker, coughing up blood at one point. She always kept Sherlock's shirt by her side even though she always had Sherlock himself to comfort her. But the shirt became slowly more dirty until it was covered in nearly everything imaginable. Sherlock had to pry it away from her and give her a different one, one that of course was quite worn in. But now she was throwing up again, she had been all day and she was running quite the fever. Sherlock was kneeling on the floor with her, holding her hair out of her face.

"Sherlock I hate this" she moaned once she'd stopped.

"I know" he said, twisting a strand of her hair on his finger.

"Sherlock, you know what I want?" she said airily, leaning back into Sherlock, her back pressed against his firm chest.

"What's that?" he asked softly.

"I want to own my own house someday. One that's big and has too many rooms that I don't need and a huge bay window so I can lay in there and hear the rain patter against the windows. And I want it to have a wraparound porch, with one of those wooden swings. And I want an apple tree."

"An apple tree?" she nodded.

"Yes, a big one that blossoms big and full in the spring" a small smile tugged at the corners of Sherlock's mouth, imagining her in the house she described, sitting under the apple tree or swinging on the porch swing.

She got progressively worse over the next week that followed, the nausea getting so bad, at one point she spent the whole day on the floor in the bathroom. Sherlock had tried everything he could to make her better but nothing seemed to be helping. Now though she had just woke and it had been over two weeks since the last time she bathed.

"River" Sherlock said softly and she blinked in response. "Would you like a bath?" she nodded and Sherlock helped her to the bathroom, sitting her down on the floor.

"You're going to have to help me" she said softly. Colour rushed into Sherlock's cheeks but he nodded all the same. His long slender fingers grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. He set the shirt on the toilet and proceed the pull of her sweat pants. He turned his attention away from River and to the tub, turning on both the hot and the cold to reach the desired temperature.

"Here is this warm enough?" Sherlock asked, sticking his hand under the water, capturing it and dripping it on River's hand. She nodded and Sherlock sighed, knowing now he would have to take off her undergarments, but he knew she needed a bath and he was determined to keep a level head about him. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen a naked woman before. He slid her panties off from around her hips and set them on top of the other clothes, all the while keeping eye contact with River. He then proceeded to lean forward and unclasp her bra, setting it with the other things. He helped her into the tub and turned off the water. He noticed her hair was a bit tangled and slightly matted in some spots. He got up, grabbing her brush from the sink and sitting back down next to the tub. He made her turn as much as she could and gently brushed through her auburn hair. Once he'd finished he set the brush next to him. He dumped a cup of water on her head, being careful to keep it out of her eyes. He repeated the step until her head was wet. He stopped for a moment, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling them up to the elbows to keep them from getting wet. He grabbed the shampoo from the corner of the tub, squeezing some of it into his palm, letting it warm up slightly. He placed his hand on top of her head, rubbing the shampoo around, itching it into her scalp. He brought his other hand up rubbing it around in her hair, making sure to get the back and around her neck. She relaxed under his touch as he continued to shampoo her hair until her head was white with foam. He picked up the cup he had been using from before, filling it with water and pouring it over her head, making sure that her head was tipped back and for extra reassurance he placed his hand up like a wall on her forehead to keep the soap out of her eyes. He repeated the steps until he was sure that the soap was completely washed out. He sighed, grabbing the bar of soap and dipping it in the water, rubbing it around in his hands. He set the soap down, rubbing his hands together. He started on her arms, seeing is how that would be the easiest. When he was certain that her arms had been scrubbed clean he rinsed them off. He grabbed her feet, washing them next, moving to her legs. He wasn't surprised when the shorts hairs there brushed his hand and suddenly he wondered if maybe he should ask if she wanted them shaved but he shook his head and assured himself that he didn't know how to shave legs and probably would only end up hurting her if he tried. He washed her knees moving up her thigh, stopping short of where her leg met her torso. He didn't move his hand right away, making himself blush, taking his hands out of the water. He shook his head and started washing her torso. She watched him as he washed her belly and the spot of skin under her naval, moving his hands over her hips. Sherlock washed her back, soaping it up and rinsing it off. He sat back, crouched in front of the tub. He cleared his voice before he spoke.

"Can you get the last bits yourself?" she shook her head.

"Sherlock I haven't even really got enough energy to breathe and in fact talking right now is taking a lot out of me" he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before nodding. He leaned back close to the tub, lathering up his hands with the soap. He placed his hands above her breasts, slowly moving them down and rubbing the soap over them. River let out a soft moan at his touch and he rather wished she hadn't. He shifted uncomfortably in his pants and let his hands drop into the water. He took the cup and dumped water over her breasts, trying not to think about the growing discomfort in his trousers. He pulled the drain and grabbed a towel from across the hall, coming back and helping River out of the tub, wrapping the towel around her.

* * *

After her bath she went straight to bed, wrapped up in some comfortable pajamas. Her coughing had started up again and several times she woke herself from her sleep with the lung wrenching coughs. Sherlock sat in the chair next to her bed, steepled fingers pressed against his lips. She was extremely sick, that he could tell but he couldn't just take her to a hospital for someone would surely notice and recognize him. He ran his hand through his curly locks thinking his only option was to have to trust someone else to do it for him.

* * *

John rushed over to her flat as fast a modern transportation would allow. He walked up to her apartment and fiddled with the spare key she had given him, trying and failing several times to fit it into the lock. Once he had successfully unlock the door he pushed it open and headed straight to her bedroom, where she was asleep, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, her hair sticking to her forehead. He walked over to her side, gently waking her up with gentle words and soft touches. She took a moment to open her eyes and when she did she frowned. She hadn't been expecting to see John and suddenly she was scared. She worried that John might have seen Sherlock and that she could no longer protect him.

"John where is he?" she asked, slowly sitting up in bed.

"Where's who?" he asked, a slightly bemused smile playing on his lips.

"Where is he?" she asked groggily, swaying to and fro in her current sitting position.

"River there's no one else in the flat besides you and me" she nodded, swallowing hard. "I'm here to take you to the hospital, the nice lady across the hall called me" again she nodded and allowed John to carry her now weak and small frame down the stairs and into a cab.

* * *

**River's POV**

I woke my head spinning and my neck sore. I squinted up at the bright light that illuminated the room. I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the light and looked to my side. The room was white all over and smelt too sterile to be anywhere but a hospital. I tried to sit up but when I did my head spun and so did the room so I quit trying. A few doctors bustled in and out of my room but none of them said anything of much relevance. After what I guessed was an hour or two John came in and I was only slightly glad to see him.

"Hello" he said gently, sitting down in the chair that had been placed next to my bed. "How are you feeling?" I frowned.

"I'm in a hospital, how do you thing I'm feeling?" I snapped. John seemed to cringe and shrink back a little and for a moment I felt bad. But I hadn't wanted to wake up in a strange place and I really hadn't wanted to wake up in a strange place without Sherlock. He said he was going to leave my side while I was unwell but he wasn't here now and suddenly I felt betrayed.

"I'm sorry" I said tears suddenly welling up in my eyes. "I'm fine" John frowned, looking concerned and sad at the same time.

"River" he said softly. And suddenly I felt so much hate, at him at Sherlock, at both of them as a whole. Never before had I been filled with so much hate towards the only true friend that I've ever had. Never before had I hated Sherlock so much I wished he actually was dead. Never before had I been filled with so much hate.

"River?" this time it was a question. I looked up at his face, studying it with a determined intensity. I studied the lines of worry around his eyes and the lines around his mouth, indicators that he had in fact once been happy. The dark under his eyes that told me he hadn't been sleeping much if at all. The more I studied his face the more my anger at him slipped away.

* * *

"What was I sick with?" I asked John later in the day. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading, folding it and setting it on the bedside table.

"Pneumonia" I frowned.

"Only pneumonia?" he nodded.

"It was pretty severe when I brought you in; they had to give you fluids and everything"

"Was it that bad?" he nodded.

"You were pretty out of it when I came to get you. And may I ask who was taking care of you when you were sick?" Immediately images of Sherlock flashed into my head, some fuzzy some clear. Him holding my hair back for me, carrying me to the bedroom, his hands on my body. I swallowed.

"The lady across the hall" I lied. However John seemed to buy it and he simply nodded. I sighed in relief at the realization that Sherlock was safe and John still didn't know.

* * *

I woke in the middle of the night, arms around my waist, a broad chest pressed against my back, and one leg laying lazily over mine. I reached behind me, my fingers getting tangled in those all too familiar curly locks. I smiled to myself, reaching down under the covers to place my hand on his knee. His arms tightened around my waist but I received no other response from my action so I assumed he was asleep. I sighed to myself, snuggling against Sherlock and falling back asleep.

* * *

I woke the next morning alone, the bed still warm from where Sherlock had slept. I rolled over, pressing my face into the pillow, breathing that wonderful scent that was Sherlock. I sighed, pulling myself up and out of bed, untangling the sheets from myself. I slowly shuffled into the kitchen where I made myself a cup of tea, letting it warm up my hands before letting it warm my insides. I shuffled into the living room, sitting down on the couch. Sherlock wasn't anywhere I could see but I wasn't too worried about it. I sighed, bringing my mug to my lips, spilling a bit of tea on myself in the process. After a while of drinking my tea Sherlock came into the living room from the bathroom.

"How did you sleep last night?" Sherlock asked, sitting down on the couch next to me.

"Good considering how much you were hogging the bed" Sherlock swallowed, colour coming into his cheeks, he cleared his throat, turning away from me.

"I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about" I raised an eyebrow and I could tell he could see my expression out of the corner of his eye.

"Sherlock why were you in my bed last night?" he cleared his throat, turning to me slightly.

"Experiment" my heart sunk and tears started welling up in my eyes. I nodded, getting up and heading to the bedroom.

* * *

I woke up late that night or early in the morning I couldn't tell. I yawned stretching my arms over my head, heading out into the living room. It was nice being home from the hospital and not having to work for quite some time.

"River" Sherlock said when he saw me. He jumped up off the floor and walked over to me. "Have you ever danced?" I raised an eyebrow and he let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on River don't make that face it's a perfectly reasonable question" I shook my head.

"No I've never really danced before and why is this relevant anyway?" Sherlock held out his hands, I frowned but placed my hands in his all the same. He pulled me over to the shelf that housed my record player and placed the needle on the record. The grainy hum of the record broke through the quiet and Sherlock placed my right hand on his shoulder, placing his on my waist. He locked our fingers together and pulled me closer. He led me around the living room in time with the music and with a grace I hadn't seen from him before. Several times I stepped on his feet, making me blush at my blunder but he would smile down at me and say nothing of the matter so I would continue to let him lead me around the room. When the music stopped so did Sherlock but neither one of us made a move to detach.

"Sherlock" I whispered quietly. "Please don't tell me that was an experiment"

"I'm sorry" he said gently. "But it was"

* * *

A/N: Hey sorry if Sherlock seemed out of character at any point in this chapter I just wanted him to be caring. 


End file.
